Routines
by chasinganotherdream
Summary: They've fallen into a routine every night at the staff table for dinner.


Hermione and Severus have a routine at every meal.

Romance/Friendship

He could always count on her to make things better.

A/N: Two fan fictions in one day? Wow, I'm amazing! Hope you enjoy this short one. I didn't really have in the writing spirit as I wrote this, so I don't know how good it is. This takes place many years after the Battle of Hogwarts and, in case you can't tell, has a few characters that didn't survive in the books here in this fanfic. I had a lot of trouble with this one so I hope you like this. Enjoy! J

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters. That all belongs to the talented J.K. Rowling.

Severus scowled as he stormed into the Great Hall for dinner, his black cloak billowing behind him dramatically. He'd been having a perfectly fine day, (or as good as any Monday could be for him) until, at the last class of the day, a group of first year Gryffindors had decided to transfigure their Potions textbooks into owls-or at least, attempted to. While all of them did, unfortunately, have wings that allowed them to fly aimlessly around the room, most of the textbooks had only had grey feathers sprouting out of their pages or jet-black talons. Nonetheless, it had been enough for Severus to assign the group of five Gryffindor a week of detention, starting by making them stay after to clean the owl feces splattered on the desks. Needless to say, Severus was in a foul mood.

His mood only darkened as he saw that the chair next to his that usually held a certain fuzzy-haired, know-it-all History of Magic professor was empty. Three months ago, after she'd started working at Hogwarts, he would have been relieved that the brightest witch of her age wasn't there. She was, after all, a nosy and persistent _Gryffindor. _But now, having somehow managed a decent relationship between colleagues, he almost relied on her to brighten his mood, even if it meant being pestered.

It was with that thought that he deepened his scowl and yanked out his chair at the end of the staff table and sat down, making it quite clear that he refused to talk to anyone. He pushed at the roast chicken wing with his fork but made no move to eat it; his appetite was long gone after the owl-textbook incident. The house elves had prepared what looked to be a fantastic meal, but Severus had no desire to eat without _her. _It made him feel empty without her there to pester him, and that made his heart clench in the strangest way. He scowled. He had no desire to be here.

However, just as he was preparing to get up and leave, Professor Hermione Granger stumbled through the side doors, her hair more disastrous than usual and her face tired and worn. She took her seat next to Severus, her cloak getting caught up in the chair legs as she sat down. She quickly fixed that, her cheeks stained red, before scooting into the table and looking at the meal. They quickly fell into their routine after that.

She murmured a "Hello, Severus," and he quickly nodded in response to her greeting, the same thing he'd been doing for three months. Of course, the first time she'd greeted him at dinner, he'd simply glared at her until she turned to her food. But now, it was almost like a routine.

"How was your day?" Hermione questioned, resting her chin on her hands and looking at him with those curious brown eyes. She could tell by his scowl - even though it was less prominent since she showed up - that he was having a worse day than usual.

He grunted in response and growled, "Horrible. A group of first year Gryffindors thought it would be hilarious to transfigure their books into what were supposed to be owls. I've assigned them a week of detention."

Severus looked at her and frowned when he saw her suppressing a giggle. Foolish and careless, just like she was twelve years ago.

"Was it led by Mr. Parker and Mr. Robins?" she asked, still sporting a smirk. Severus nodded sharply. Glenn Parker and Tim Robins were two of the most troublesome students Hogwarts had had in many years, next to the Weasley twins. They were every bit as annoying, too.

"Interesting," she said quietly, eyes twinkling curiously. He watched her lips quirk upwards in a short smile before she continued, "They were shooting sparks at each other during class today, and ended up burning Mr. Lunge on the arm." She took a sip of her pumpkin juice and added, "I had to escort him to the Hospital Wing, and when I returned, the two were at it again. Remind you of anyone?" She added this last part with a wink and nudged her elbow into his arm.

He sighed heavily, though a brief ghost of a smirk passed across his lips. "If you are referring to those infernal red-headed Weasleys," he said with faint humor lacing his voice, "then you're mistaken. They don't compare to the twins' mischief."

Hermione smirked, and his eyes lit up for a moment before he began eating again. He knew it would be a moment before she would do what she always did at dinner, and he strangely found himself wanting it to happen more with each second.

Finally, her left leg brushed subtly against his right, black-clad one, and he locked it against hers. They sat close together, close enough to fell each other's heat and feel their thighs touching each other. They continued eating in silence, their legs wrapped against each other, falling into routine yet again.

They didn't have to worry about being caught by a staff member, for he doubted that they'd look under the table at their legs. It was bliss, a comfortable, warm bliss, and Severus found himself closing his eyes and reveling in the moment. They did this every night: make small talk, eat briefly, then lock their legs together. Sometimes, if he got very lucky, she'd grab his hand and lock her fingers with him as she ate, though it was difficult for him to properly use a fork to eat with his left hand. He must have gotten lucky tonight, and he thanked whatever god was listening as her small hand grasped onto his cold one. His black eyes glinted and he flashed the smallest, quickest smile as he locked his fingers with hers.

They ate like that for the rest of the meal, breaking away only when they were the last two in the Great Hall. They'd walked together to his quarters, ensuring that no one was watching or following them, and laid on his couch together by the fireplace. They fell asleep like that, with her head leaned against his chest and his fingers running through her tangled mess of curls, until he, too, fell asleep.

It was almost like a routine.


End file.
